


Broken Sonar

by Dee_Laundry



Category: House M.D.
Genre: Allusions to Grease, Friendship, Gen, Humor, Meta
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-10-27
Updated: 2006-10-27
Packaged: 2017-10-16 03:24:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/167904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dee_Laundry/pseuds/Dee_Laundry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Even strangers see it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Broken Sonar

**Author's Note:**

> Another TWoP quick ficlet. Inspired by an interview RSL gave in fall 2006. For **fitzgig** , who prompted “H/W and music, somewhere, somehow.”

House was halfway through Haydn’s Sonata 51 when the front door opened and Wilson walked in.

“You’re late,” House declared, his fingers on the piano never pausing.

“Meeting ran late,” Wilson replied, and threw his suit jacket over the couch rather than putting it in the closet. He’d also left his briefcase in the car – not spending the night on House’s couch, then.

“And afterwards,” he continued, yanking his tie off, “one of the board members asked me the strangest thing. Remember how Cuddy said we needed a ‘fresh view’ for the board, someone outside the medical field?”

“Mm hm,” House replied. He was listening, really he was, but the fingering in this section was joyfully intricate.

Wilson’s hands were on his hips – House wasn’t looking at him, but it came through in his voice. “So now we have this guy Ausiello; I don’t even know what his field is. Fitzgig would have been a _much_ better choice, but Cuddy didn’t ask me. Anyway, after the meeting, Ausiello comes up to me and says, ‘So how long have you and Dr. House been dating?’ I mean, what?”

House tried to keep his smile confined to the very front of his face, where Wilson couldn’t see it, and continued playing. “So what did you say?”

“What do you think I said? I was astonished – why would he think that? But, you know, he’s a board member, so I can’t go off on him, so I say, ‘Dr. House and I are friends.’” Wilson’s voice was traveling back and forth; he was pacing, and probably running his hands through his hair.

“And he says, ‘Some people have noticed sexual tension there, and _everyone_ says you’re like a couple.’ _Sexual_ tension? A couple! I mean, come on, the nerve. Who would think that? What would _make_ anyone think that?”

House replied, “What indeed,” and slowly, subtly began transitioning from Haydn into a more contemporary piece of music.

“We’re just regular guy friends. All we ever do is regular guy things.”

“Yep,” House said, over the light opening strains of the new song. “What are you making me for dinner?”

“I was thinking of chicken saltimbocca.” Wilson crossed to the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. “You didn’t eat the rest of the prosciutto, did you?”

“Nope. Grab me a beer.”

Wilson pulled out the ingredients for dinner, and then opened two beers. He brought House’s over, pausing to grab a coaster before putting it down on the piano. “What is that song you’re playing?”

“Surprised you don’t recognize it. It’ll come to you at some point.” House looked up into Wilson’s eyes for a long beat, then nodded in thanks for the beer.

Wilson went back to the kitchen and the dinner-making sounds blended nicely with the rest of the song. When it was over, House was a little surprised Wilson hadn’t caught on, but shrugged and made his way to the couch. He had a Blackadder episode to watch – the one where Melchett falls for “Georgina.” That guy who played Melchett was a great actor, very funny.

About fifteen minutes later he called out, “Hey, Wilson, I’ve got a line on some opera tickets for us for next weekend. You’re not having dinner with Stacy that Saturday, are you? Before I go and shell out the big bucks…”

Wilson’s head popped around the door frame. “I said I was sorry for that about a million times. And no, I don’t have plans for that Saturday. Get the tickets; it’ll be a good break. Dress up, go out – are you going to shave?”

“Maybe.” House once again kept his smile in abeyance until Wilson turned back to the cooking.

The Blackadder episode was just ending as Wilson handed House his plate and settled on the couch.

“I recorded Grey’s Anatomy for you,” House said as he scrolled through the TiVo list. He found the episode and hit play before turning to his meal.

“Thanks,” Wilson replied and ate carefully, his eyes glued to the screen.

They ate companionably for a few minutes, with Wilson watching the show and House discreetly watching Wilson.

“That Izzie,” Wilson said offhandedly, and House took it as his cue to jump in.

“You know you’re really looking at McDreamy.”

“What?” Wilson fumbled his fork but managed to catch it before it fell on the couch.

“That’s what that new board member would say, anyway.” House shoveled another forkful of the chicken – which was very good – into his mouth.

“Oh, Ausiello. I don’t know what drugs that guy’s on. To totally misinterpret something like that – doesn’t show good judgment.”

“Uh huh.” House was going to strain something if he kept having to hold his amusement in like this. Fortunately, Wilson had firmly planted himself in oblivious mode.

House let him watch a few more minutes of his show before commenting, “I think the movie Grease might be on tonight.”

The quizzical look on Wilson’s face was once again funny. “Grease? What made you think of that?” Wilson’s eyebrows went down, and then the right one went back up again. “Wait a minute. That song you were playing before, that was from Grease. Um… Hopelessly Devoted to You, that’s the name of it.”

House nodded and ate a bite of vegetables.

“Why would you play that?” Truly clueless. Wilson in oblivious mode was a wonder to behold.

“No reason,” House responded. He paused just a fraction, to give the impression that he hadn’t been planning his next words ever since Wilson had relayed the conversation with Ausiello. “Say, Halloween’s around the corner. I could go as Danny from Grease, that’d be fun.”

Wilson shrugged and looked back toward the TV, but House wasn’t done. “I’ll make the kids be the T-Birds, and Cuddy of course _has_ to be Rizzo.”

Taking a drink of his beer, Wilson nodded but didn’t look over.

“And you’ll be Sandy.”

Wilson avoided a spit-take, but it was a close thing. When he was done coughing, he turned toward House, who cut him off. “Now I know what you’re thinking, that Chase is the one who’s blond and Australian.”

“Actually, I was thinking that Cameron would make a good Sandy. Very decent, caring, and helpful.”

House shrugged with one shoulder. “OK, pre-transformation Sandy maybe. But I’m not sure she can pull off the smoking-leather-stiletto-slut thing.”

“She did have the drugged-up one-night stand with Chase.” Wilson looked briefly at House and then picked up his beer and turned back to the TV. He nodded, as if he considered the matter closed. “I’ll be Kenickie. Backing up Danny, messing around with Rizzo, a good gig. You know, a hickey from Kenickie is like a Hallmark card…”

House quit listening and sank back into the couch, contemplating the ceiling. Post-transformation Sandy was the real Sandy – Danny hadn’t had to wear that stupid letterman’s sweater for long, had he? And there was only one person House was going to fly off into the closing credits with. He snuck another look at Wilson and began to laugh.


End file.
